Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
My eyes lock on a red beat-up truck in front of the diner. Standing beside it is Sienna, and wouldn’t you know it, I’m now famished, and not for food like I tell Amos. “Let me know. Whenever, man. Gonna let you go. I need coffee and something to eat before I hit the grocery store for Mom.”
“Alright, come over whenever with the shit we gotta get done,” Amos says.
“Will do.” We hang up. I pull my truck to the side and out of eyesight and watch as she climbs inside. I might have told Sienna’s brother to leave her alone, but that doesn’t mean I will.
SIX
SIENNA
“Finally, you’re here!” Genevieve has a flare for the dramatics. I called her the minute I knew I’d be late. I even shot her a text telling her I’m making another pit stop to grab us food and coffee.
“I’m here, and I come bearing gifts. Two turkey sandwiches with bacon, might I add, curly fries, sweet tea, and coffee. I mean, what more could a girl ask for?” I show her the fruits of my labor as much as I can with what I’m working with.
“A tall dark and handsome cowboy would be nice,” Genny jokes. She’s been hard at work this morning, and by the looks of it, for hours now. Amos and Trey may have their little deal going on. As do Genny and me. One that allows my creativity to flow, and I can disconnect from everything, not think my life to death.
“Well, take your pick, honey. There’s Amos, Ryland, and what about that new guy at the feed store?” Even I have enough sense to tell he’s a tall glass of water on a hot summer day. I make my way toward Genny where she’s painting the latest pieces I’ve glazed. The likelihood of her eating right now is slim to none. Which is why I got food that would somewhat keep without being totally disgusting when she takes a break.
“I see you now have taken Trey off the list. Interesting development.” She smiles. I roll my eyes.
“That’s a discussion for a later time. Sweet tea or coffee, food or no food?” I change the subject, mainly because my arms are tired, and with me making more behind the pottery wheel today, I’ll need to preserve any energy I can.
“Coffee. Food later. Now tell me what Trey did to get in your good graces this time?” Ugh, sometimes I really do not like my friend and business partner. She knows everything, held my hand when I felt like my world would fall apart, picked me up off the ground, dusted me off, and told me to buck up, buttercup. And even when she tells me stuff I don’t necessarily want to hear but need to hear, Genny does it with love. Kind of like the girls have been doing, too—Birdie, Tully, Juni, and Maeve. The next time we have a girls' night, Genevieve is being introduced into the fold. When we had one last month, Genny begged off, saying she couldn’t handle taking a day off work with the deadline. My friend is amazing, and she’s also a liar. I didn’t call her bluff. I’ll ease her in and see how she does, maybe suggest she bring her own car in case she needs to make an excuse and leave. Did I mention my best friend battles with debilitating social anxiety? I love her regardless and will do anything and everything to make her comfortable, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I truly think she’ll find her footing with the girls, see how easy-going it is, and hopefully realize that there’s a place for her with us.
“I found a pup on the side of the road, and he helped me rescue him,” I say as fast as possible, sliding my words together without so much as taking a breath. What does my friend do? She remains quiet, but the arch of both eyebrows and the pursing of her lips while trying to hide her smile from me are answer enough. Therefore, I move to the counter where there isn’t clay, paint, or shipping supplies to place the food and drinks on, then move the sandwiches into the small refrigerator. Having the diner put our collective fries in a different container will help when we’re ready to eat later. After a quick toss in the small air fryer we also have in the warehouse, they’ll be nice and crisp.
“And?” Genny finally graces me with her next question. I take a moment to clear my head. Learning how to navigate being near Trey and not jump his firm muscular body has been hard, so damn hard. Then I remember the feeling of loneliness, how consuming my thoughts of Trey were, and a piece of me still blames him. The worst part of this whole equation is he has no freaking idea what has me so upset about how things ended.